


Mine, Not Yours

by kwamii



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Everyone Loves Ladybug, Humor, Jealousy, Love Triangles, Other, Polyamory, Swearing, Think Outside the Love Square Month, Volpina doesn't exist in this fic, everyone is bi, puns, tfw when you don't get the metaphor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-11-16 23:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11263596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwamii/pseuds/kwamii
Summary: What the people of Paris did not know was that there was a second, secret war going on in their city.Ladybug inspires the admiration of many, but none more so than her teammates, Chat Noir and Queen Bee, who each believe they'll be the best for her - and neither is going to give up without a fight.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Think Outside the Love Square Month continues with polyamory week so here I am with a pairing (triad?) where there are two love triangles overlaid on each other (Chat/Ladybug/Bee and Marinette/Adrien/Chloé) and the best solution ofc would be to connect all the points and make it polyamorous ~
> 
> Basically this fic was just an excuse to write some catty superhero fighting because I am HOPING so MUCH that some of the new Miraculous Wielders cause Drama because it's actually p fun!! In this fic, the team is just Chat, Ladybug and Bee (who I had to invent a move for rip). I especially see Chat and Bee being obnoxious @ each other sooo
> 
> Rating is for swearing, escalating all the way up to the... f-word :0 (shocking)
> 
> Let's be real for a second: Chloé is so gay

The Miraculous Wielders; heroes of Paris, defenders of Justice, guardians of Peace. The masked heroes were looked to with adoration by all. Ladybug, with her determination and the life that bloomed from her; Chat, with his limitless charm and smile that never slipped; and their new teammate, Queen Bee, who was glamorous and cool, but with such compassion beneath. As symbols of the city, they were perfect, represented everything which France held dear. Not only were they Parisian icons, but their endless war against Hawkmoth made them victors, despite it not being quite yet won.

What the people of Paris did not know was that there was a second, secret war going on in their city.

Heart racing, lips panting, Chat Noir leaped from rooftop to rooftop, steadying himself with his staff whenever the walls loomed too close. The pads of his feet burned with the repeated heavy contact of his frenzied footfall, his fingertips raw from dragging himself up onto the eaves of the buildings around him. There was hair in his eyes, and he almost scratched himself with his own claws when pushing the strands away. His whole body felt messy, wrong; stomach groaning, lungs howling, veins screeching. He was hurting himself in his haste. But he had to be fast.

He clambered up onto a spire, eyes narrowing to scry for their target. In an instant his heart plummeted from his chest, and blank despair surged to fill the cavern it left. He was too late.

Queen Bee was there talking to Ladybug.

He had no idea how the striped superhero had found her so fast; as soon as Chat had heard rumours that Ladybug had been sighted around the city, he had been out and transformed in a flash. And yet, somehow, he had been beaten - but, as he reminded himself, only in the battle, not the war.

The truth of it was that Chat Noir and Queen Bee were fighting (some might say squabbling) over the lady in red. This, among other things, had led to his dislike of his new partner. He could not put out of his head that unfavourable first impression; Queen Bee had acted bratty, stand-offish, entitled. She was vain, believed herself better than all except Ladybug. She sniffed, scoffed, and scorned. She loved attention, and she hated Chat.

Maybe that was mutual. Although Queen Bee had certainly mellowed - she embraced crowds with enthusiasm now rather than imperious disdain - Chat could not shake his distaste. He found her rude, and frankly unnecessary; her signature move, Pollination, was no more than a glorified skill buff (Chat, as an avid RPG player, and already plenty powerful, didn't see much point). It was a good thing she was hot, since she didn't have much else going for her in his book.

Her flirting with Ladybug had been the last straw to topple their relationship. Chat and Bee fought together with gritted teeth in the daytime, and fought each other snarling in the night.

He hopped from his perch into the glow of moonlight where the girls stood, "A midnight rendezvous and I wasn't invited? How un-furr."

Queen Bee shrugged and gave him her signature assertive grin, "Well, while the cat's away, the mice can play."

He was supposed to be the one that slipped these sorts of things into his sentences; it was cool when he did it, but Queen Bee just made his cute quirk annoying. 

Ladybug groaned, "No, I can't deal with this from _both_ of you."

"Is she _bugging_ you, milady?"

It was Bee that answered the question, "I don't think so. We bugs have a special friendship. I don't think a dirty alleycat like you would understand."

If he had fur, it would be bristling, and his hackles would be raised. Even so, he couldn't help but hiss lowly. Chat had never really thought of himself as a jealous person, but... he was definitely a jealous person. It certainly wasn't helping that Queen Bee had her arm around Ladybug's shoulder, and was staring him down with gloating defiance.

Chat beat down the rising resentment. She was only doing that because she was insecure. Obviously, she knew Ladybug was destined to be his. She was constantly doing things for Ladybug to get on her good side - she bought her flowers (over which the girls enthused together), she lade her with jewellery (over which she boasted her wealth), she released doves from rooftops (over which Chat got more frustrated than he should - his allergies prevented him from making such sweeping statements of affection). He told himself now, as he often did, that she performed these extravagant gestures because her obnoxious personality gave her no chance. She wasn't making any leeway in her pursuit of Ladybug, and Ladybug wasn't currently giggling into her shoulder because she liked her or anything.

Wait. Damn. Giggling? Chat had missed the joke. He'd lost the opportunity to make an even wittier comeback and charm his lady. 

He cut in, "Anyway, why are you guys out? I was worried there had been some sort of cat-astrophe."

"Actually, we're on a date."

Ladybug looked flustered, "Well, no, it's not a _date_ , per se, more like a meeting? Bee just told me she had something to say to me. And here I am."

"Oh?" he noticed his hands were balled into fists and forced himself to unfurl them, "That sounds im-purr-tant."

Queen Bee glowered at him, "I swear to god, I lose a little bit more of my sanity every time you open your mouth."

"Oh yeah? I lose a brain cell every second I'm in your company."

"Oh, is that right? Well, I lose a year from my life expectancy whenever you - "

"Stop it you two!" Ladybug yanked Queen Bee back - neither of them had noticed how close their argument had brought them. But all that Chat Noir was able to process was that Ladybug had pulled Bee back instead of him. Why? Was it because she thought of her as the more aggressive party? Was it because she was the one she'd rather touch?

The yellow hero seemed to think the latter, leaning ever so slightly into her teammate to showcase their established proximity. Chat seethed, saw red. 

Ladybug snapped him to attention, "Will you two ever grow up? I know you don't get along but this is embarrassing."

Obstinately, they both stayed silent, neither willing to apologise.

She sighed, "Anyway, Bee, you had something to say?"

"What? Oh, right, yeah. Well, I forgot," she grumbled, "It's hard to think with that alley cat breathing down my neck."

"I'm only breathing down your neck because you smell so bad I-"

"Goodnight!"

They whipped around in one motion, looked at Ladybug's retreating figure, "Goodnight...?"

"I'm going to give you some time to simmer down. We can try this again when you figure out that in-fighting isn't going to get us anywhere. The most important thing is to stay united and you're really not doing a very good job of that. So goodnight."

And with that, she was gone, yo-yo-ing across the Parisian skyline.

Chat gave thought to her words. He supposed she was right. Arguing with Queen Bee was such a waste, and it certainly wasn't going to win him any favours with the girl in red. So, with a deep breath, he resigned himself to being cordial. He could do that.

"You only called her to flirt with her, didn't you?"

"I wouldn't have to if you were any good at it."

He wanted to claw her eyes out. Screw cordiality. That could wait.

"You malicious hornet," he hissed.

"Oh, fuck off and scratch your fleas you filthy tom."

* * *

Ever since she'd joined the Miraculous team and been forced to reconcile herself with her own inadequacy (only in terms of magic, mind - she was still stunning and perfect in all other aspects of her stunning and perfect life), Queen Bee had been looking for ways to prove herself to he teammates.

Correction: teammate. Chat Noir was not high on the list of people she liked. He was singlehandedly the most frustrating (especially because she had to check herself now so that the word furr-strating didn't slip out instead), vulgar and generally asinine boy she had ever had the misfortune to meet. The first thing that had gotten on her nerves was that damned costume - tight, leathery, provocative, that collar like a BDSM accessory - which was tacky and really lowered the tone of the place. They were superheroes, not strippers, though maybe Chat hadn't got the memo; he was scatterbrained after all, nowhere near as cool or reliable in a crisis as Ladybug.

And - it went without saying - nowhere near as genuine about Ladybug as she was. Bee felt like he was just following the same rhythms, flirting with her simply because that was he was used to, that he felt like he was supposed to, and that he had nothing else worth doing. Simply put, Chat was boring and, even worse, a fuckboy. There was a reason why she had almost as many fans as him in half the time.

She was the one who really wanted and deserved the attention of the spotted hero. After all, Queen Bee had changed for her. She'd realised that there were certain parts of her personality that not everyone found charming, and that Ladybug had higher standards than even the Queen Bee herself, and so she'd revitalised her personality as though it were her summer wardrobe. She knew Ladybug would appreciate that, just as she knew that Ladybug would appreciate all her gifts, and the fact that she had decided to start going on patrols.

She hadn't told Ladybug about her plans yet; she had intended to surprise her, swoop up onto her patrol route 'entirely by coincidence' and prove that she too could be a useful part of the team. That was something that Ladybug seemed to appreciate; certainly she'd warmed more quickly to useful, charming Queen Bee than her bratty civilian counterpart. So, really, it was beyond question; when it came down to it, there was no way Chat could beat her because she was veering very close to perfection now.

But there he was. Chat. On a rooftop. With Ladybug sitting between his legs, back against his front. 

The casual intimacy made Bee freeze up, as a jolt of sharp envy rushed through her. Slowly, she crept closer, tried to figure out why their patrol paths had crossed, why Chat had inadvertently foiled her plan - though she wouldn't put it past him to have deliberately placed himself in her way, didn't rule out the idea of him somehow getting in her mind like that, the bastard.

Chat was saying somehting, lips too close to her ear, and Ladybug laughed, batting his hand away from her knee.

"Claws off, alley cat," Bee growled, darting up next to them and glaring at him with her hands on her hips.

The gentle glow suffused across Chat's face went cold, and he shot his unfriendly eyes upwards, spoke with a slight drawl, "Oh, looks like we've got an infestation."

Ladybug rolled her eyes at their familiar antipathy, rolled her shoulders back into Chat's chest, "One's company, two's a swarm, as the saying goes."

"Ladybug! I-"

Bee moved in now, presenting the other girl with a sprig of yellow flowers she had freshly plucked from a balcony flowerpot, "Ladybug, I was hoping I'd see you tonight. I saw these and thought of you."

"More like you were thinking of yourself, as usual - yellow is _your_ colour."

She looked up sharply, then her gaze softened, directed at Ladybug with a wisp of something she hoped was charming, "I suppose I wanted to give you something of me. I'm yours if you'll have me, Ladybug."

Chat made a retching noise, but the girl in his lap chose to ignore it, shuffling over so that she could take the proferred gift, "They're very pretty. Thanks Bee."

But instead of placing them in her hands, Bee chose instead to place them in her hair, tucking the biggest and brightest of the blooms behind her ear. Then, she smiled, "These would look so pretty in your hair, like yellow stars in strands of space."

"I can't believe I have to sit here and listen to this crap," Chat grumbled.

"If you're not super busy, y'know, looking after Paris and all, I could braid these into your hair for you?"

"If you're not super busy, y'know, jerking yourself off," he parroted, "I could stick my fingers down your throat for you?"

"I could kick your fucking lights out for you?"

Ladybug cleared her throat, broke through before more extravagant proclamations were made, tried to soothe at least one of those tempers "Chat, uh, you could help too? It sounds like a cute idea."

The two shot each other a look that spoke volumes, but nevertheless they relented and knelt together at her back - as if to do repentance and in this way absolve their sins. They took each pigtail from its ribbons, split each half into three strands, and began to twist them together into plaits, pushing little flowers into the nooks and knots of her hair. 

"I can't believe you took my line," Chat muttered.

With a smile: "What line?"

"Don't play innocent; just before you came, I was telling her how her hair looked like the night sky."

"Oh really? What a coincidence. And for your information, it's not a _line_ to me."

Ladybug twitched as someone pulled on her hair, but neither of them noticed, too busy spitting words through the sides of their teeth.

"You know, you act all high and mighty and _queenly_ , but you're no different to me. You do the same things as me. I just do them better."

"Yeah, probably because you practise your lines on every girl in Paris."

"Well I'm not the one _practising_ , if you know what I mean, on everyone in Paris and their cat."

"Cat? Ugh, you wish."

"It's a saying. Though I'm sure you're not intelligent enough to know things like that."

"Guys?" Ladybug squeaked, "You're... hurting me a bit."

They let go of the hair as though it burned their hands, and shared a guilty glance before looking away, refusing to share even a second of solidarity. Plural you offended Bee - she knew she wasn't the one who had hurt her, she knew how to handle diamonds, but that clumsy alley cat wasn't fit to touch her.

Queen Bee had always been fiercely superficial, possesive, and nowhere was that more apparent than in her pursuit of Ladybug (the latter at least, she knew this attraction was not on a purely physical basis). Whenever she saw Chat lay one of his grubby little paws on the spotted hero - innocently, to fistbump her at the end of an attack, less so, to sling an arm around her shoulders and pull her tight - she could feel that angry buzzing behind her eyes and an urge to slap him away. This wasn't supposed to be part of the new and improved Better Bee™ she was working towards, but it was an irrecovable fact, a phenomenon she could not change. And so, she saw no other option but to fight - luckily, a queen bee, unlike her workers, had multiple stings in her.

Chat was speaking, metaphorical tail between his legs, "Sorry, milady, it's hard to do anything with these claws, if your hair got tangled, I-"

"No, no, don't worry about it! And maybe it's not the best to do this kind of thing in the dark."

"I'm sure there's plenty other things we could do in the dark..." he purred

Like slip a garotte around his goddamn neck and stop that bloody bell from ever tinkling again? But she restrained herself, "Oh dear, is the poor alley cat in heat?"

"Bee, no one likes you."

"Stop projecting your feelings on me."

"At least I _have_ feelings."

"At least I-"

"I'm taking my flowers," Ladybug warned, voice slow and sweet as syrup, "And I'm leaving."

But even she, and her vanishing form, could not stop the momentum of their argument, "Now look what you've done."

"Fine, lay the blame on me because of your narrow-minded prejudice, just because you don't like bugs-"

"I like _Ladybug_ , I just don't like _you_. At all"

"You can't say that. Me and Ladybug are a duo."

"You're delusional. It's been Cat and Bug since the beginning, and you've got no part in it, so you should just get lost."

Her mouth gaped, almost fish-like with that pale gloss, and she jabbed a finger into his chest, glaring up at him from only a few centimetres away, "You... you...!"

"Trying to sting me, queenie? Terrifying."

"I've half a mind to fucking _geld_ you," she hissed.

"Smart move. Because you've realised that _this_ ," he gestured down arrogantly at his crotch, "Is currently your biggest competition."

And before she could test his assertion with a well-placed knee, he had sprung away from her and slipped into the dark.

* * *

Now, late-night patrols had become a team 'thing'. 

'Thing', though hardly the most eloquent term, was one of the most descriptive for what happened in the late nights. It was hardly reconnaisance, for they rarely had anything to report back, and it wasn't a hang-out, for the air between Chat Noir and Queen Bee was far from clear.

These evenings of diligent patrol often ended on a rooftop, hanging out and looking at the stars (or at Ladybug) in silence - a silence which was interrupted by occasional bouts of flirtation or argument. Chat Noir and Queen simply could not get enough of their teammate, nor of ripping into each other whenever an opening presented itself. Ladybug responded to their fighting with eye-rolls, and to their flirting with teasing, though gave them no real indication of her favourite. In fact, she never brought it up outside of the moment - a mystery that simply inflamed them further.

The only sweetnesses that came from Ladybug were those small snacks she had brought for her team in a cute handstitched backpack. She usually had cocoa in a thermos, from which they all sipped, and some baked goods; she was loyal to a certain boulangerie, the same packaging on her sweet treats each day. Chat had grown to love their choquettes, Bee the dainty little macarons.

Tonight, she had brought a pack of ring doughnuts, dusted with crystalline sugar. Neither Chat nor Bee could keep themselves from watching her rapturously as she began to eat the first and then the second doughnut; the flash of her white teeth as she bit into the pastry, and then of her tongue as she licked the powdered sugar from her lips, the dainty hand that stopped the dough from crumbling. The sugar-speckles on her lips glinted like tiny crystals in the moonlight.

"You know what?" Queen Bee said archly, directing her words to Chat, "I think I love doughnuts."

He was confused by her words for a long moment, but that strange emphasis on the word, combined with her obvious fixation on the object of their mutual desire, made him realise. It was an impetuous symbol. What better than a sugary treat to represent the sweetness, the heaven, of their partner?

"You _think_ you like them? I _know_ I do."

"Still, I can't imagine what you call love compares to what I feel."

"For a doughnut?" Ladybug asked, but there was something strange and understanding in her eyes.

Chat spoke slowly, "Yes. A doughnut."

"Honestly, Ladybug, don't listen to a single word he says. I think he's just saying these things because he feels he should, because he thinks you'd like it if you heard him say it."

"Excuse me? I've loved dougnuts ever since I first met - I mean tasted - them."

"Well, _I've_ loved them before I even got to taste one. Just looking at them in the windows, I know I wanted doughnuts probably for the rest of my life."

He scoffed, "Figures. Of course you'd be attracted by the look of them, you're shallow like that. But me, I like what's on the inside, I like the creamy filling."

"Ugh! Pervert!"

Ladybug shrugged their comments away, nonchalantly stuffing the last part of doughnut into her mouth after she spoke, "What's the big deal? They're good, sure, but not great."

"Yes, but only think that because you're so lovely and humble. There's so much to yo- well, that you aren't seeing."

"They're perfect."

"See, that's exactly the kind of thing _she_ would say, isn't it? You know, at least I realise that sometimes there are small mistakes, but I don't think any less of them for it - in fact I love them _more_. That makes my feelings for them all the stronger, don't you think?"

"Oh, bullshit. You know you don't like them as much as me."

"I don't think you fully appreciate the hard work that goes into it, the passion. There's more to it than the taste, the sweet rush of happiness; there's real character there and you're missing it."

Was that a blush on Ladybug's face? "You're getting awfully impassioned about... uh..."

"Because she doesn't know anything about you!"

"Because he doesn't treat you like he should!"

The answers came at the same time, so Ladybug didn't quite catch their content, though she caught the sentiment. She sighed, "Guys, is this just a continuation of all your previous arguing?"

Somewhat peeved, Bee muttered a, "Yeah."

Chat, less embarrassed, "Of course."

Ladybug stared at them in turn for a long moment, shaking her head hopelessly, her breath escaping in a snort. Then, she laughed, reaching in her take-away box for the last sweet pastry, "You know, I don't think the doughnut would mind being shared."

The two watched as those deft fingers broke the sticky hoop in two. The two halves, coming together to embrace that which lay in their middle. 

"Shared?" Queen Bee echoed. She had never considered anything like that before. Perhaps it was doable.

Chat Noir glanced to his side at his old rival, then stared at the girl in front of him, "You're serious about that? Me and her?"

"Well, why not? I think the both of you are equally deserving," she beamed.

Her teammates stayed staring for a moment longer, before Chat broke the stunned silence by sliding forward and plucking one half of the sweet pastry treat from a hand, kissing its sugared knuckles with reverent lips, "For my lady, anything."

Bee, not wishing to be outdone, swooped in to kiss her cheek instead, knotting her fingers in Ladybug's as she removed the other piece of doughnut, "I have what I want and that's more than enough."

The spotted superhero swatted their affection away, laughing still, "You're so dramatic. All this, for something to eat? You know, if you'd told me, I would've gotten more. Actually, there were three in the box - enough for one each if you'd only asked earlier!"

Chat laughed with her, "The joke's over, bugaboo, no need to keep it up."

"What joke?"

His laughter stopped in an instant, along with his breath and all his other faculties. Bee stuttered and stumbled too.

Ladybug blinked unknowingly at him, her, "Really, what is it?"

"You mean..." Bee was almost choking, "You don't... you didn't... did you not get what we were talking about?"

She crooked her head to the side, "You were fighting for the last one, right?"

"No!" she spluttered.

There was a beat in the conversation. Chat's voice was high, "Actually, we were fighting, for, uh..."

"For what we've been fighting for over the past month."

Ladybug looked lost.

"For you!"

The colour drained from her face, "Oh."

"Yep."

"Uh huh."

"We thought you knew."

"Like, we were so obvious about it, there was no way you couldn't know!"

"I... actually, I didn't."

"Ah."

With that, silence fell, and lingered for a long, horrible moment.

Chat cleared his throat, lowering his pitch from the high peep it had been previously, "Well, uh, thank you for the food anyway."

Such a small voice: "I... I don't mind."

"Of course not," Bee sighed, "You've always been so generous."

"I mean, I don't mind... sharing. Like what I said."

Two pairs of eyes, deliberately trained on the floor, shot up and saw that Ladybug's face had gone from hollow white to burning red in an instant.

"I, well... it'll stop you two from arguing all the time, won't it?"

Chat shook his head hastily, "No! Don't do it for that. You don't have to do it for that."

Bee, meanwhile, tried to be blasé, "Besides, now that we've both been rejected, I don't even see much point in arguing anymore."

"It's not... I don't..." realising the hopelessness of trying to speak, she buried her head in her hands, muffling her words along with some of her anxiety, "I, uh, like you?"

Bee rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, "I don't want to, like, push you, but that wasn't the most clear..."

"I like you! Both of you!"

Then, with her declaration made, Ladybug buried herself deeper into her body, shielding herself from the looks of her two comrades. Had she known that Bee and Chat were too busy staring at one another in open-mouthed shock, she might have been less self-conscious.

"You... mean it?"

She moaned a yes.

"Both-?"

"Yes! For God's sake, don't make me say it again, yes! Now leave me alone so I can _die_!"

They stared at this crumpled ladybug, the intense redness of her skin peeking out from behind her shell, the mysteries of her thoughts tucked somewhere just out of reach. This marvellous, miraculous little thing... liked them?

Chat's lovely, silky, feline voice broke her out from her self-imposed solitude, "As long as I can plan your furr-neral, milady."

"You're the worst!" she cried, unfurling her limbs in order to shove him away.

"Ouch," Bee intoned with barely concealed glee, "Sorry Chat, but I guess she likes me more now. That's got to _sting_."

The other girl flung her arms up into the air, "I hate you both!"

"That's not what you said just a moment ago," Chat crooned, stretching out onto her lap.

"Yeah, sure, I like you. As _partners_."

Bee grinned, "I don't think so. You don't have to share that kind of partner, honey."

"Is that a pun? I swear to God if that's a pun I'm going to-"

She pouted, "Aw babe, don't _bee_ like that."

"Oh buzz off!"

There was unrestrained mirth in Bee's blue eyes, "I think she made her first pun."

"What did we do to be blessed with such marvelous furr-tune?"

"Fine! If I admit I want to kiss you, would you just shut up already with all the puns?"

"No," Chat purred, leaning in, "But it would help make your dreams come true."

And he kissed her, only for a moment, only like the gentle, vanishing dreams he spoke of. Against her lips, he sighed, "Mm, purr-fect."

"Get that dirty punning mouth off me," she grumbled, though with no real conviction.

"What do you expect from a dirty alley cat?" Bee scoffed, even as her eyes traced their parting mouths with fascination.

"And you could do better?"

Ladybug immediately realised what she had said, and would've clamped her hands over her mouth in shock, but Queen Bee had beaten her to it with her lips.

"Wow, do you really have to be so extra all the time?"

Still cupping Ladybug's face in her hands, she turned to give Chat a biting look, "Do you really have to ruin the moment, fleabag?"

"Fleabag? Oh, that's rich coming from a jumped-up grub that shouldn't even physically be able to fly."

This, apparently, was a night in which Ladybug was most eloquent in her sighs, "I pretty much _just_ told you that I would do anything to stop you arguing."

"Nuh uh," Chat said, mellowing as he nuzzled into her neck, "Impossible. There are fundamental differences between us that simply can't be reconciled."

Bee settled into her shoulder with a contented grin, "Well, the good news is that we've finally found something we agree on."

They cuddled like this in silence for a few minutes, the same silence as their other patrol nights, only less sharp, only with more stars above. 

Then, the inevitable interruption: "You know what's pretty cute, or, I don't know, funny to me right now? Apparently in England, a doughnut is another word for an idiot, someone who totally misses what's going on around them."

"Um, I've literally never heard that before? I'm calling fake."

"I guess being super fake yourself makes you the unqualified expert on the subject."

"I guess you're just salty you're not smart enough to be an expert in anything, braindead tom."

Ladybug groaned. This was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is like... the longest single chapter I've written... in my life... Neat!
> 
> You know when u want to use the c-word but it's just too strong and also u literally never swear in real life so you replace it with a bitch, and suddenly bitch is the weakest word in your entire vocabulary and generally a disappointment

Tranquility settled on the skies of Paris like never before that summer. It was a pleasantly moderate season for sure, blue skies without the blight of rain or the burn of heat, but the very atmosphere was otherwise different. Paris felt blessed, for its heroes worked together like never before, swatting away akuma after akuma like they were nothing more than troublesome flies. It was incredible to watch; more incredible were the silhouettes of the happy three in the twilight, dancing across the spires of Notre Dame, swinging their legs over the edge of the Arc de Triomphe, hanging from the sides of the Eiffel Tower and laughing. Rarely before seen pictures of peace in the emblems of the same. 

No one had known the true extent of tension within the team - not even the sharp-sighted reporter from the Ladyblog had realised - but their new bliss was easily observed. What a wonderful summer it was! The heroes must be feeling the warmth of that gentle sun, they thought, and it worked miracles - though Chat Noir's love for sunbeams had always been common knowledge, the light seemed to have affected them all. 

The happiest observer of this subtle and marvellous change was Ladybug, who had given up all hope that her teammates would ever get along. And yet, to think that the solution to keeping the Miraculous wielders in harmony had been in the palm of her hand the whole time - or both palms perhaps, as she couldn't hold one teammate's hand without the other wanting the same pleasure for themselves. 

So, yes, there were still the tiniest of fractures in the team, small things that she'd have to work out or else Lucky Charm her way out of, but things certainly weren't _bad_. They were rather _good_ , in fact. Pretty _great_ , one could argue.

And, naturally, Chat Noir and Queen Bee found cause to argue about it; "You know," Chat purred, rubbing his cheek into the crook of Ladybug's shoulder, "Sitting with you, so simply like this... it's the best thing."

"Don't call it a _thing_. Are you always so venacular?"

"What would you call it, Your Highness? Since you're always so smart and superior."

She chose not to pick up on the heavy sarcasm that dragged his voice down somewhere onto ground level, or perhaps deep into the Metro, "I would call it a marvel. An epiphany. A-"

"Pretentious pile of shit?"

"Speak for yourself. I'm not the one who licks my own asshole."

"You know, I'd prefer-"

Ladybug cut in before the conversation took a strange, sordid turn where she sat at the centre, "Hanging out with you is definitely high up on things that I enjoy. A marvel too, when you guys can be quiet."

She felt Chat's smug grin tug against the small sliver of exposed skin by her neck, "You can always quieten me with a kiss, my lady."

What could she do but oblige? And what could Bee do but turn her head round for a kiss of her own?

There was something very simple, incredibly satisfying, about the act of kissing. Chat's kisses were rougher and his teeth got in the way, but they were meltingly soft and expressive, made Ladybug quiver. Bee was liquid-smooth and sweet as honey, kissed with her tongue and entire torso, and was eloquent and elegant and dripping with desire. Ladybug, by their adamant necessity, could not kiss the one without soon gracing the mouth of the other, and danced dizzily, divinely, between the two pleasures. Certainly, she'd had worse ideas than convincing the two to share her.

She shook herself free with a sigh, "Really, I shouldn't make out with you after you've been arguing. You'll never stop if I give in like this. It's negative reinforcement."

Bee thought about this, "I swear that only applies to babies and pets."

"Well, I suppose I'm the pet, so what does that make you?"

"Shut up. I'm, like, the most mature person here."

"You tugged my tail!"

"Only because you were slapping me with it!"

"Yeah, because _you_ insinuated-"

"Aww," she simpered, "The pussycat knows a long word."

"Really driving in that point about your maturity, babe."

"I'm not your babe, asshole."

"I've got to say, your fascination with my asshole-"

Ladybug rolled her eyes and pushed them gently away. Hopefully with the added distance they might struggle a bit more at throwing the insults across at one another, but if that plan failed, at least she wasn't in the middle of the attack. She moved to the edge of the rooftop, turned around to watch them, blue eyes narrow behind the red of her mask.

"Shut up. Looks like Ladybug's getting serious."

"At least one of us is capable."

"Did you not hear or understand the words 'shut up'?"

"Rather beneath my intellect, to be honest."

Ladybug drew a deep breath, "You know, I've been thinking..."

This was more effective than a 'shut up' could ever be. Not even a superhero is immune to the immediate sense of catastrophe an 'I've been thinking' can bring, and so the two superheroes stopped dead. Chat's ears twitched, Bee leaned forward.

"How much do your civilian and hero personas interact, integrate? Like are they the same person to you, or different?"

"Different," Bee said without hesitation, shoulders relaxing with this seemingly safe topic, "Like, I'm a whole different person when I'm in the suit. Nicer, I guess."

Chat harrumphed, "Doesn't really show."

"Oh, that's a cute observation. Can I make a quick guess before you answer? I would think you're no different, exactly just as obnoxious in person, literally just as identically bratty and cocky and shitty as you are... well, always?"

For once, he shrugged her off, "No. Pretty different. I've got almost no personality when the suit's off."

"Thank goodness," Bee said, but just as quickly, "Don't say that about yourself."

"It's true."

"It's unfair."

He turned away, not interested in continuing an argument that wasn't in their usual vein, "Well, Ladybug? Are you going to make this a nice three in a row or do you feel otherwise to us?"

She wondered for a moment whether to resume Bee's thread, but figured it was a depth of Chat he didn't want exploring, "I'd say different as well, I think. Ladybug's... _I'm_ a whole load more confident and happy when I'm like this... it's interesting though, isn't it, that we all feel better in this role - or maybe it's because we're supposed to _be_ better, that we've got this great weight of expectation on us now that we're trying to act for the good of the city."

Bee studied her for a moment, blinking long and low with a measured sweep of her lashes, "What's brought this on, Ladybug? Something on your mind? Do you need to talk?"

"I'm coming round to the subject. Just... uh, give me a moment, I'm afraid of how it's going to sound... but I guess to me, Ladybug and Ma- my other self are not that connected at all. Some things, yeah, they're the same - I like the same people, I enjoy the same hobbies - but some of the important stuff changes hugely, like my personality I guess, and my relationships. I don't know you guys in 'real life', and I've got other people down there," she said, nodding down at the Paris streets, "And I've got certain things I want to do that I can't do in the suit... and in a way, I want to keep the suit separate from those things. For my safety and my own fulfilment. Am I making sense?"

"Ye-es," Chat scratched his ear absently as he spoke, "I think I do, it's a vague feline I've had myself."

"Do you have to make puns when we're being serious?" Bee hissed, out of earshot.

"Ye-es. It's my biological im-purr-ative."

Bee slapped him.

Ladybug carried on, not noticing, "And I really like you guys and that's every part of me, but the other part of me can't really do that properly. And there's people the other part of me really likes as well, and this part does too even though it makes no sense why a hero would like them in particular," her voice began to trail away, all the energy in her being poured in now to maintain the blush on her cheeks, "But if the superhero and the civilian are separate..."

"You can... you know..."

"I suppose if you want to... and they want to..."

"Date?" she squeaked, "Other people?"

Not since their first brush with their feelings had there been a silence this awkward and profound. Chat continued scratching his ear, now with some new passion. Bee stared down at her knees, drumming her fingers on the bone. Ladybug choked, swivelling round to face the street. A taxi drove past, jeering air in its wake.

Bee coughed to shatter the quiet, "I mean, there's a hot boy in my class..."

Ladybug sighed, "There's the _loveliest_ boy in mine..."

"I'll have you know I am both the hottest and loveliest of boys."

Bee didn't even stoop to a response, "You know, I'm glad you brought it up, Ladybug. We haven't exactly defined the terms of this relationship-" she said the word with a scowl at Chat, who she still believed to have ruined her true chances with her idol, "And it's a good point, about our civilian lives. I think I'd be happy to extend the sharing a little further."

"Really?"

"Sure. As long as I can do it too."

Chat looked from between the two of them in desparation. Ladybug was the only girl, the only anyone, who'd caught his attention. Competing with this striped devil was hard enough, but now he'd have to compete with her civilian love too? No thanks. This was too much. This was ridiculous. This was... "As long as it's just the three of us when we're suited up. And as long as you guys tell me if you find someone else when you're in your regular clothes."

Ladybug nodded, "They sound like good terms."

"I'll take it."

"Ok..." Chat breathed, a slight whistle in the air he expelled, "So that's that."

"As long as you're okay with it, _mon minou_."

"In theory, sort of. I'll update you to how it goes in practice."

" _Chaton_ , _cherie_ ," Ladybug sighed, moving forward to embrace him in her arms and daisy-soft scent, "You're too good for me."

"And that's why you can only handle me half the time, and Bee for the other," he joked, kissing her forehead.

"You're mine _all_ the time. Whenever you want."

And when Ladybug captured his lips the way she did, and Bee didn't interrupt his moment or even ask for one of her own in exchange, Chat found himself softening to the idea just as Ladybug's body softened into his, her tongue twisted into his and turned over all his mind. You know what, maybe it was okay, he could share just a little bit further. He had his girl, and would happily give her whatever she wanted, even if it involved someone else, and he would do his very best not to get _too_ jealous, as she would also be someone else in the process, someone she attested to be very different but also, it went without saying, probably equally lovely. Nope, he would not get jealous.

Meanwhile, he just had to prove himself extra hot, and especially lovely. Maybe he'd even stop bickering with Bee. _Maybe_.

* * *

Adrien Agreste had always been Marinette's first - and best - love. Adrien Agreste had characterised the past two years, brought them form and flavour. Adrien Agreste had occupied many of her dreams, and yet more of her mindless wandering classroom fantasies. Adrien Agreste had... no idea.

Marinette was determined that would change, and she had two very compelling reasons to believe it would be so. One, she had recently learned a little something of love that wasn't aching and distant but instead close and full of laughter - and the experience would surely help her where she had so often stumbled. Two, she had received the encouragement that it was going to be OK if she made her move, and pretty much every important person in her life supported her; Alya, always, her parents had guessed at it, and hell, even Paris' greatest superhero team had given their consent.

Now all that was left was to finally, absolutely, irrevocably go for it.

And this was absolutely and irrevocably the hardest part of the damned thing.

Marinette stared wistfully at the back of Adrien's golden and perfect head. It should be illegal for boys that beautiful to be that kind, for it was a sword of the sharpest sort, and his green eyes ran her through with every look. His eyes - a colour poets call viridian but Marinette swore they were greener even than that - were stunning, with lovely long lashes, so warm too, and they spoke of the loveliest depths of his soul. The soul that had captured hers, that twisted her tongue into convoluted knots and made her stomach all squishy. The soul that could be hers. She could do it. Asking him would be so easy. In fact, she'd already almost succeeded about a dozen times in the asking alone.

He must have felt the intensity of that stare, or else heard Alya's repressed snigger, for he turned his head. Marinette, blushing, quickly looked away, looked anywhere she could. Straight at Chloé, who was busy looking somewhere over at her.

Make that three reasons why Adrien Agreste felt that little bit more attainable. Chloé seemed to have stopped caring about the gorgeous model in their class - which was a huge shock to Sabrina, who knew of little other pastime except her friend obsessing about Parisian celebrities - and was wrapped in some strange and hazy glow of contentment that meant even if she snapped, she was so warm in doing so that her classmates couldn't help but smile at the insult. It was bizarre, and creeped Marinette out beyond expression, but it meant her rival was theoretically out of the picture.

But Chloé, at-present-strangely-almost-friendly-Chloé, was looking at Marinette with eyes narrowed into hostile slits and a savage mouth that gnawed relentlessly at a fingernail.

Marinette, slightly unsettled by her return to antipathy, looked back over to Adrien, who was looking at Chloé, so Marinette decided to look at Chloé again, who was in turn looking at Adrien. Her eyes were big now, the huntress mouth smoothed into a honeytrap smile. The change was instantaneous and dazzling and altogether infuriating, especially when Adrien raised a shy hand to wave at her.

The sight of it made Marinette gag on her anger. Truly, there was no one worse - no one she'd less rather hand Adrien over to - than Chloé Bourgeois. Indeed, if Marinette were Ladybug, she would have happily yo-yo'd the girl into oblivion. Fortunately for her, Marinette and Ladybug were quite separate, and in fact, Ladybug's personal grievances did not keep her from saving the heiress whenever she did something stupid. Even more fortunately, Chloé was no longer testing this particular patience, and seemed to finally have learned how not to akumatise the entirety of Paris. A leopard may not change its spots, Marinette thought bitterly, but at least a snake had the decency to shed its skin every once in a while.

Sometime in all that thinking, without her realising it, Adrien had started looking at _her_. Marinette was afraid the resentment for her other classmate would show and that he would think it was for him, and so she quickly tugged her lips into what she hoped was a genial smile. To her great relief and greater joy, Adrien beamed at her and gave the same wave (but better, of course) to the one he gifted to Chloé. Then, he turned back. End of that. Time to stop looking. Time to start... doing?

She turned open an exercise book to a blank page, flicked the cap off a pen, removed the safety cap from her thoughts. She would write him a note. She would write him something and try not to make it cliché. Maybe she would write something _meaningful_ , but probably she'd just ask him to see a movie or stop by the bakery for a coffee and a pastry. No, she had to tell him. She was decided literally ten seconds ago to tell him, due to some stupid pact she made with her girlfriend and boyfriend, and whatever happened next was okay. Knowing was the worst of it.

'Adrien. Hi! Just wanted to say that you've been a really good friend to me and I'd really like to get to know you better :) If you're free this weekend we should do something together. I always enjoy it when I'm with you! Love, Mari x'

The 'love' was pushing it; the single kiss threw it (whatever 'it' was) right off the cliff into the depths of disaster. But that was okay, right? Marinette was the very definition of a walking disaster, and if he didn't like that...

Well, she didn't really know how to cope with that, but that wasn't the point.

When the bell rang for break, she tapped Adrien on his shoulder (she was touching him and he was warm and lovely) and smiled as their eyes met, "Hey... uh, Adrien... I was thinking - because that's what class is for, you know, thinking, aha! - and uh, it occurred to me that we should... or could... might... this is for you!"

Good thing she'd written the note. Her head was no longer connected to her voicebox, and it was useless trying to communicate while he stared blankly at her and smiled - his stare and smile were too much, and she was already flustered. Her eyes slid shyly down, and she held the note out in front of her. 

A manicured hand snatched it up where it stood, "Don't worry, Adrikins. I'll take this garbage out for you."

Marinette's eyes shot up, latched onto Chloé's with venom, "That's not-"

"I wasn't talking about the note."

Her fingers clenched, "Give it back. It doesn't belong to you."

"It doesn't belong to me? Pfft, I can afford to pay for anything I want," she smirked, coiling herself forward to jeer in Marinette's face - and she did not fail to notice that Chloé's hand was resting on Adrien's forearm possessively.

"Some things you can't buy."

"Some things," she sniffed, "I don't want to."

And with that, she threw the scrunched up piece of paper into Marinette's lap. Outraged, the dark-haired girl shot up to her feet - in front of her, Adrien vaguely rose as well - and jabbed a finger into Chloé's chest, "I'd suggest you go buy yourself an ounce of kindness, because you seem to be running out. Why do you _insist_ on making everyone miserable?"

"Miserable? My presence in itself is wonderful," Chloé yelped, indignant.

"Money can't buy happiness. But the people around you, they can sure help," her eyes accidentally roved to Adrien, then shot back to Chloé with fire, "And you're not helping. So, would you let the rest of us just get on with it?"

She was quiet for a moment, her face furrowing into the deepest glare. Then, tossing her head of furious golden hair behind her, she stalked from the room. Then, it was quiet.

Marinette cleared her throat, "Uh, Adrien..."

This startled him, "Oh god, I'm going to be late! Talk to me later, Mari, okay?"

"Okay."

This is what she told him, but it wasn't quite right; just /trying/ to talk had taken a lot out of her, and she knew she wouldn't be trying again any time soon.

Chloé would quite simply have to be dealt with before she made another attempt.

* * *

"Bee, how do you deal with competition?"

The striped hero looked up curiously, "I don't have to. I know I'm the best. Well, second best: you, of course, place way ahead of me," she kissed Ladybug's cheek with reverence, "So I have no clue who you could be competing with, or why on earth you'd have to."

"It's for the boy I like. And since you and Chat were fighting all that time-"

"Yes, but we all knew I'd beat that alleycat in the end. It wasn't a _real_ competition."

Ladybug looked wordlessly at her.

Bee carried hurriedly on, "Well, a sort of variety of competition, _I guess_. But I didn't really pay him any attention as a competitor, per se, he was just a guy in a suit who pissed me off. Still pisses me off. Pisses probably everyone off. And now there's someone pissing you _off_ , which I can't bear the thought of. Tell me about who you're up against."

"She's..." Ladybug searched for something, then sighed, a long and mournful sound, "Probably better than me in every way. Like, she'll get him and I won't, just because she gets everything she wants and that's the way it is. She's rich, and she's so, so pretty - always looks perfect, even when it's raining or she's stressed - and she's popular. Not, like, genuinely popular, but the kind that people revere. She's powerful. She's... kind of a bitch. I don't really like her."

"Then your regular-guy hunk isn't going to like her either."

"No, but you don't get it. She's a big deal, and I'm... well, I'm not. I don't stand a chance"

"Chance?" Bee grinned, slung an arm around her shoulder, "My dear, chance is exactly what you're best at."

"Yes, but that's-"

"That's why you're going to absolutely _slay_ this game, and have someone mega hot to snog when you don't feel like getting suited up. You're going to beat this bitch, no fucking contest babe, superhero or civilian"

* * *

Chloé didn't know much about true friendship, but she knew it was everything.

She was learning about it with Sabrina - who, for so long, she'd simply used, kept as a sentient accessory - and was pouring her time and money into treating her as she entirely deserved. It was part of the new and improved Chloé Bourgeois, the one that knew about human sensitivity and tried her best to be attentive. And yet, when it came to friendship, she thought her best was with the gorgeous, covetable model in their class.

Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe it was just the crush. Or maybe it was because she knew him, back when they were young and lonely and knew nothing of the world. Their parents were always busy, but they made room for one another - and that Adrien-shaped space remained by her side. They were the cliché two sides of a coin. When they were unknown, they had known one another, when the world was cold, there had been warmth one other. Was it so stupid that she still felt that draw?

It had probably come across as insincere want, the way she had pursued and consumed him - and perhaps it was to a degree, puberty had hit him well - but it was because she had made it that way, because she was the vapid blonde rich bitch, and that was simply how her archetype acted. Not any more. Now was the time to be assertively intelligent, confidently kind and unashamedly in love with her childhood sweetheart.

Adrien's friendship had meant everything to her, and she was not going to lose it to a girl whose friendship she could never gain, and who would bar him from her.

It was time to make up for a few years of being an irrefutable bitch: easy peasy.

However, it would serve her well to still look like one, she knew she'd look near irresistible; lick of red lipstick, flick of devious eyeliner, nick of skin in a dress made for warmer weather. It wasn't her usual uniform, but nothing too scandalous for school and everything more than what the other girls in class would be serving - especially mumsy little Marinette, always so meek and mim in pigtails and pink. If Marinette wanted Adrien, tough luck, she'd have to get past Chloé's razor-good looks.

She inhaled deep. Okay, enough of the stone cold inner voice, lest it got in the way in reality. Time for sweet Chloé, new Chloé, Queen Bee Chloé without the undertones of social stereotype.

"Adrikins!" she smiled, leaning onto his desk, stretching her body out into perfect lines for his pleasure, "Just the guy I wanted to talk to."

To her delight, he smiled back, "What's up, Chloé?"

Good question. What _was_ up? Take it slow: "Nice weather, isn't it?"

"It's lovely. I've been trying to make the most of the sun while it lasts."

She rolled her eyes, "Tell me about it. I totally _hate_ it when my parade gets rained on."

"In this case, literally," he said, eyes shifting to the left as he smiled and waved to the person who came through the door. Marinette. Speak of the devil, the clouds looming over the parade.

Chloé casually slung her hips to one side, to remind Adrien what a hottie he was talking to and blot out some of the other girl as she passed through to her seat, "Anyway, there's a legit reason why I'm talking to you about the weather, by the way. I'm not, like, boring or British suddenly or whatever."

"Oh, never boring," he beamed, raising his eyebrows at her affectionately.

"Yeah. A drama queen," Marinette muttered.

Magnanimously, she decided to ignore this, "So! It's hot. You're hot. I'm hot. What better way to celebrate this intense hotness than go to the beach, huh?"

"That sounds great! I'll have to check my plans..."

"I bought a new swimsuit and I figured I should get a model's input. Please, Adrikin, you gotta help me, I'm relying on you," she simpered, pushing her body further into its most sensual reach.

"Sounds serious," he joked, "I guess I should clear my schedule."

"Please do. Open invite," she winked.

Marinette's hand appeared on Adrien's shoulder - Chloé took a moment to glare at her - "Open invite? Is it alright if I pop in? I don't want to intrude or anything, but, see, there's a beachy fabric I want to test out, but central Paris isn't really the spot for it. It'd be really helpful if I could come along."

"Marinette," she shot through her teeth, "I don't think-"

"Between a model and a designer, I think you're sorted for your new swimsuit, right?"

Chloé forced her expression into something warmer as Adrien turned to look at her for her opinion. But below, she was infuriated. How dare Marinette talk in that condescending way that was all Chloé's own and perfect it so that it actually sounded genuine, so much so that even Chloé thought it might be so? And how dare Marinette be right? How dare her interests align with Adrien's that much more closely?

She slipped into a smile, "Sure. I'm sorted. I'm done."

"Awesome!"

"It's a great idea, Chloé."

"Oh, and I'm around any time you want to talk about fashion."

She swore to god, she was going to carefully unbuckle her expensive snakeskin belt right there, slip it round Marinette's neck and _pull_. How dare she? How fucking dare she?

"That's so cool of you to offer."

"I just do my best to live my life generously, you know."

"Yeah. Totes."

Chloé could be generous too. Right now, what the girl needed was a generous slap to the face. And Chloé had a lot of rings stacked on her fingers, a lot of money in her slap to be generous with. 

But she kept herself away from that precipice and just kept on smiling. Kill 'em with kindness. Get Adrien and then get the fuck on with her life. Make Marinette miserable.

In the meantime, she could just about manage to keep her hands off her.

* * *

"You know," Bee said sadly, slumping into Ladybug's shoulder, "I've always thought I'm the bee's knees, but... I don't know."

"I'd chastise you for the pun but you look down. Want to talk about it?"

"Yeah. If that's okay."

"Of course. Until you're okay, everything you need will be okay with me."

She half-laughed, "Thanks. It's just... I've been quite privileged, I guess. My dad always tells me how wonderful I am - but that's probably just how dads are - and I've always been surrounded by people that look up to me. And maybe the reasons why they looked up to me weren't always positive, but I sort of got used to the illusion of being liked and I didn't really care that much. And I know that sounds awful, but-"

"You were like that as Queen Bee too, in the beginning. But you've changed; I'm sure both sides of you have changed."

"I thought so too. Being hot, being popular, they weren't quite what I cared about anymore. But it's hard to change when a certain thing is expected of you, and there's a little bit of the mega bitch still left. And damn, Ladybug, she's coming out again. I don't mean for it to happen, but I'm just so insecure about the cute guy in my class that I'm coming out all weird again. I _hate_ it."

"What need do you have to be insecure?" Ladybug murmured, running her fingers through her girlfriend's hair, "You've always been hot and now you're learning to be kind. You're smart too, in your way, and you're good. That sounds like a rounded package to me."

"Yes, but there are so many _better_ girls all around me. Like this one girl, she's so annoyingly nice and so obviously more his type and I'm like... desperate I guess, to be this guy's type and I just end up being the opposite. I can't deal with competition. It makes me ugly. And I can't deal with being ugly either."

"Well," she soothed, "That's fortunately not something you'll have to deal with often."

"Yeah, I know I'm hot babe. It's my personality I'm worried about. What about that?"

"It's got potential."

And she kissed the sweet, troubled forehead into calm.

* * *

It was a squad joke that Adrien was totally oblivious.

He, at first, had been oblivious to why he deserved that descriptor. He, probably, would never have figured out without any help exactly why they giggled and nudged him and called him that. He supposed it was because he was used to adoration - from strangers, the media, fans, classmates. Some, of course, adored more than others.

Now, he noticed it, the very point of his obliviousness. People liked him, liked him in the way he liked Ladybug except probably less than that because that was _real_. He didn't know when he had started to notice these external emotions, but he figured it had something to do with his fight with Bee. Something about the way that Chloé and Marinette acted in one another's company reminded him of endless cat fights with the newest hero in their team, and he realised with sharp surprise that his friends liked him. As in _like_ liked him.

And he was free to do the same back, if he so chose.

He had never had much intentions of choosing, to be honest, because his plan had always been to charm Ladybug, nothing more. Now that that was complete, he wasn't sure if there was anything more he wanted, even if he was allowed to, knew his teammates were both wanting more. It would only be fair...

No, he was loyal to Ladybug. Nope.

Except Marinette bore some similarity to his lady love, her dark hair, her blue eyes, her body (not that he looked at it or anything). He could put her on a pedestal, elevate her to a mortal Ladybug, an attainable version of the miraculous mystery he so enamoured. He could definitely see Ladybug her, kiss and covet Ladybug in her. But he didn't have to, couldn't do it besides. Marinette was someone entirely different, someone... entirely as good. She shouldn't be idolised, held distant, because she was ever-kind and sweet to everyone, and dear to him even if she wasn't close. He didn't know her well and didn't feel like they were quite friends enough. They'd got off on the wrong foot and he was still worried about that, but it seemed as though she'd forgiven him. It felt pretty great. She was pretty great.

Chloé though, Chloé was undeniably stunning, the kind of girl that all guys dream about. Her beauty was antipodal to that of Ladybug, sharp and golden, a living vow to glamour. Even Adrien, who was utterly dedicated to Ladybug, couldn't help but admire her as she walked, sat, did anything. It was his model's eye, he guessed. So sure, her personality was abrasive, made him squirm sometimes, but when it tempered, it was nice, held a lovely nostalgic, comforting quality. In a way, she was his closest friend. He held her in great esteem, in an important part of his heart. She was, in a way, as tied to his future as she was to his past.

Just listen to him think, he thought, rolling his eyes at himself, and it was obvious he'd been so starved of love by his father that he was desparate to grab hold of anything that would even blink his way. But no. Adrien wasn't that pliant, he wasn't that needy. He liked them both, but that didn't make him needy. He already had what he needed, right, what he wanted? That was it.

But what about what he _could_ have?

What about that deep and jealous and unspeakable part of him? The thought of adding more tangents to his relationship had irked and unsettled him; the thought of being made smaller and lesser by other people pressed at his greatest insecurities. No thanks, he didn't want any part of that. Even though he wanted Ladybug to be happy, he couldn't help himself, he envisioned her finding another guy with the greatest fear. And so...

No. He was not going to use two of his best friends as a tool to make his girlfriend jealous. He was not going to use them as a safety net if things went wrong. And he definitely was not going to use Ladybug as an excuse to make a move on two girls he really, really liked.

Especially not when they looked so cute in their swimsuits; Marinette in pink and mocha polka dots, Chloé in bronzed skin with a bit of white fabric. A perfect diptych. Dark and pale. Sweet and spicy. Girl next door and the girl from behind gilded gates.

He had to stop thinking like this. It wasn't going to help. It wasn't going to change anything. He was resolved, after all. It was just him, and Ladybug, and-

"Marinette? Chloé? Come here for a sec."

* * *

"So," Chat sang, voice wonderfully clear in the cool night, unwelcomingly chipper after a long, strenuous patrol, "How's your love life? Collective love life, I mean, after the little pact we made. It's been a while, you know, and I'm purr-ious."

"Fine," mumbled Ladybug.

"Alright," humphed Queen Bee.

"That sounds less than spec-cat-ular," he said, pulling a theatrical frown, "Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"That's fine. I don't really care anyway, Bee."

"You haven't got a caring whisker on your body."

"My suit didn't come with whiskers, I'm afraid. But if you want-"

"If it's got anything to do with you, I don't want it."

"And yet," he could not keep himself from grumbling, "You want Ladybug."

"Ladybug isn't yours."

"Ladybug," the girl in question sighed, "Isn't anyone's. I'm not a _thing_. You can't just _talk_ about me when I'm right here."

"Not to anyone? Not even that lovely boy in your class?" Chat couldn't quite keep the gloat from his voice; he couldn't help it, he was quite simply jealous by nature.

"Not exactly. We're going out now."

The flatness of her tone gave him pause. His frown now was quite genuine, "But you don't sound happy about it, bugaboo."

"Certain... compromises were made."

"Do you want to elaborate... I mean, ela-purr-ate, on that?"

"No. It's quite embarrassing."

"I embarrass myself with my puns on the regular. This is a no-shame zone here."

"I'm shaming you regardless," Bee intoned.

"That's just like you though, isn't it? Regardless. Absolutely no regard."

"Well, I dare say I _regard_ you to be an absolute..."

The dazzling riposte ripe to roll off her tongue died as it hit the air. Then, with a sigh, pulling her shoulders up to her chin, she settled her glazed gaze on the distance. Chat cocked his head. That Queen Bee should lose her passion for an argument just like that... it was almost a cause for concern.

"Something up, Bee?"

"A few things."

"Boy troubles?"

"I suppose not. I got the boy I wanted. If that's what you mean."

Consider him purr-plexed. They had both got what they wanted, and yet they both seemed so bitter. He almost felt vindicated in his prior hesitation to accept the new terms, but that feeling was both fleeting and distasteful. As the self-appointed Most Important Boy in their lives (or, at least Ladybug's), it was his job to get to the bottom of this mystery. And maybe, if the situation called for it, beat up the two boys that had left them feeling this way.

But before he could ask, Ladybug cut in with a question of her own, "It looks like the only one not suffering from boy troubles is you. Unless the troubles are your own. Like, self troubles."

Bee rolled her eyes, "Girl troubles?"

"Hardly."

She raised an eyebrow, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I might have... maybe... seduced, or at least sort of gotten into some form of relationship... or, arrangement, with, uh... a girl, or more accurately," he coughed, "Two... girls?"

The air was dead.

Chat rapidly continued on, "Which makes me feel a bit bad, because you were the ones who were hyped for the idea and yet I'm the one who's reaping the benefits right now, and besides, I don't know if we're allowed to have more than one side person, was that part of the deal? So, I'm a bit worried that I've... I don't know... purr-petrated some great and heinous offence."

To his great surprise, Ladybug hesitantly started to laugh, "That makes two."

"Three."

They traded looks across the rooftop. Chat frowned, but it flipped itself into a grin against his will, "How very Communist."

"Seems we're very passionate about sharing here."

"I gotta say," Bee stretched out, admiring her legs as she did so, "Hearing we've all gotten involved in our own other weird triangles makes me feel a lot better about having to share the boy I like with someone I don't."

"Weird! Same here. It's only Chat who's lucky enough to be on the nice corner of the triangle this time. Congrats to Chat," she winked, and kissed him.

Bee's knees shot back up to her chest as she jerked back to attention. Ladybug rolled her eyes and offered her a kiss of her own, but it wasn't that that had gotten her so riled up, "Lucky black cat. Lucky bug. Why do _I_ always get saddled with the short straw?"

Ladybug frowned, "What do you mean?"

"You're the centre of the triangle! You're whining because you have to put up with someone you don't like but I have to do that either way, both triangles."

"You're literally whining right now, hypocrite," Chat rolled his eyes.

"Because it's unfair that I'm always on the bad side!"

"It's because you don't have a good side."

Contemptously, she gestured towards her body, "No good side? Bitch, I look good from every side."

"Didn't think the view from up your own ass would be that great."

"I'm not-! Urgh, for fuck's sake!" she seethed, throwing her hands up into the air, "If you enjoy this so much, you wanna trade places, like, do all this bullshit arguing again with someone else? Or does the leather give you some kind of power kick?"

"Um, guys..."

"No, but I could totally power kick you off this-"

"Try me, dickface."

"Really, dickface? Sounds like your perfect way to spend the night."

"For one, kindly fuck off. For two, maybe I'd actually get some dick if someone let me have what I want for a change."

"You get too much of what you want, you petulant brat."

"You're just bitter."

"Bitter?"

"Because I don't want you. I don't fall for your charms like everyone else. I don't buy in to what you're selling."

"You think I want you to want me?"

"I think you're insecure."

"I think you're insufferable."

"I think-"

"Guys..."

The warning falls limply from Ladybug's lips. She can't stop their momentum this time; Chat and Bee steamroll onwards with every inch, most notably their lips. Bee's hands clutch at Chat's shoulders, his hands tug at the nape of her hair, and they seem just as intent on consuming each other as they do kising. Fury and fancy and frenzy, and a funny feeling in Ladybug's stomach. She feels weird watching them, squirms in her place - but she can't deny that she likes watching. 

Chat bites Bee's lip, and she parts from him for a moment, seeming only now to realise, "What are you doing?"

"Connecting the triangle," he mutters, lips drawn back to hers, "Stopping your whining."

This is what he told her, but it wasn't quite right; he didn't quite have a concrete answer to the question, it was as nebulous as the flutter in his head when they kissed. Kissing Bee was... kinda nice.

Whoops.

**Author's Note:**

> united in puns


End file.
